


Pregnancy Actually

by saphinias



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Dysphoria, Embarrassment, Fluff, Guilt, M/M, Mpreg, Vomiting, self-gropage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-09
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2017-12-10 20:39:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/789934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saphinias/pseuds/saphinias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Louis has an unexpectedly weird body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Angsty Boob-Growing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis finds out that he's growing boobs.

Louis was poking and prodding at himself in the mirror like he did every morning since finding out he was pregnant, when he first saw them.  He twisted, turned, and squinted, hoping he was just imagining things.  Hoping that from the right angle they would disappear.  But they didn’t, much to Louis’ horror.

“Harry!” Louis yelled.  Typically Harry left him alone to do his daily bodily appraisal, but he was always just in the other room getting dressed.  Because of this, he immediately appeared in the doorway, belt hanging unbuckled.

“What’s wrong?”

Louis jerkily gestured to his chest, “I’m growing tits!”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed.  ”Really?  I can’t tell.”

This made Louis angry.  ”How can you not?!  I don’t normally have boobs!”  He paused to glare at Harry, “ _Do_  I?”

Harry held up his hands in a gesture of innocence.  ”My bad.”  He squinted at Louis.  ”Oh yeah, I see them.”

“You do?!  It’s that noticeable?!” Louis squeaked, covering his chest with his arms, as if he was suddenly indecent.

“No!  No.  Not noticeable at all, Lou,” Harry backtracked quickly.

“Make up your damn mind!  Can you or can you not tell?” Louis asked, beyond annoyed now.

“I honestly can’t.  Maybe you’re seeing things?” Harry suggested in a small voice.

Louis huffed, and pinched the bridge of his nose.  ”You are useless.  Go put a shirt on,” he ordered.

“Bu-“

Louis glared at him and pointed to their bedroom, and Harry left with a muttered  _sorry, sorry_.

***

The problem was, they just kept growing.  How big could boobs get on a man, honestly?  And his chest hurt all the time because of how fast they were growing.  Two weeks after he first noticed them, Harry walked into the bathroom during his morning appraisal.  Louis just happened to being groping his newly grown boobs.

“What the - what are you  _doing?_ ” Harry asked.  Louis jumped in surprise and dropped his hands.  

“Jesus!  You can’t just walk in on a man during his personal time!” Louis exclaimed, embarrassed.  Harry scratched his head.

“Uh - I could, like, leave.  If you want,” he finally said.  Louis flushed darker.

“No, no.  If you could just, uh, hand me my shirt,” Louis said, gesturing to where it was hanging on the door.  Harry tossed it to him and Louis pulled it on, feeling better immediately.  He crossed his arms.

There was a no eye-contacty, awkward silence.

“Okay so I was watching this American show called Degrassi and I remember-“

Louis laughed in relief.  ”I’m so glad you’re a huge idiot.”  Harry rolled his eyes and continued.

“Yeah, well anyway there’s this stuff that this person uses to, uh, bind their chest, I guess?”  Louis can tell that Harry is being extra special careful with the gender neutral pronouns, and he appreciates it.  ”So I could get that for you if you want.  Basically.”

Louis threw himself into a Harry hug.  ”You’re the best idiot a man could ask for,” he said, voice muffled against Harry’s shirt.

***

“You don’t have to sleep in this, you know,” Harry said one night in bed, lightly tugging at the binder.  ”I don’t care.  As long as you’re comfortable.”

“The binder makes me a whole lot more comfortable,” Louis mumbles sleepily, pushing Harry’s hand back down to his stomach.  Louis had set up strict no-touching-the-chest-area rules.

“Okay,” Harry said, and kissed his neck before he was dragged back to sleep.


	2. Domestic Vomiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis has morning sickness, and Harry is totally there for him. Totally.

Harry wakes up to the lovely - and quite familiar - sound of his boyfriend retching in their bathroom.  He heaves himself out of bed and stumbles into the bathroom to offer sleepy moral support.

“G’morning, love,” Harry croaks, sitting down next to where Louis is gripping the toilet seat.  He leans his head against the counter and lets his eyes slip close.  Louis spits, and takes a couple of much needed breaths, by the sound of it.

“I hate you,” Louis rasps, laying his head down on the seat for a moment.  Harry hums in acknowledgement.  

“Ya done?” Harry asks, and is answered by dry heaving.  ”Nevermind,” he mutters to himself.  He reaches over and rubs the older boy’s back.  A few minutes later Louis sits back on his heels.

“Okay,” he croaks.  Harry stands up and wets a washcloth for him.  He hands it to Louis, who wipes his mouth off.  Harry takes it, rinses it, and throws it in the hamper.  Then he takes Louis’ hands and pulls him up from where he’s kneeling on the tile floor.  They stand silently in the embrace for a moment, before Louis breaks it.  ”If you don’t get me my toothbrush right now I’m going to vomit again from the taste alone.”

“Charming,” Harry grunts, and hands him the requested toothbrush.  ”Breakfast now or later?”  Louis wrinkles his nose at the mention of food.  ”Later it is.  Tea?”

“Yes, please,” Louis says around his toothbrush.  Harry kisses his cheek and leaves to make tea for the both of them.

***

“God, I’m tired.  I slept eleven hours, how am I still tired?” Louis complains.  They were curled up on the couch with their tea.  (Decaffeinated for Louis.)

“Dunno, babe.  Pregnancy is weird?” he offers.

“I have the weirdest body ever.  It’s so unfair,” Louis whines, nuzzling Harry’s chest and huffing.

“Actually, did you ever hear about that guy with tree bark for skin?  And like, twigs for fingers and toes?  I mean, obviously it just looked like bark, but still.  At least you aren’t a tree,” Harry says.

Harry can feel Louis’ smile, “I love you.”

“I love you back,” Harry replies.

“We have to do stuff today, don’t we?” Louis asks.

“Yeah.  Half day of promo.”  Louis groans.  ”Be thankful it isn’t a full day,” Harry reminds him.

“True.  Though I’m sure I’d be up bright and early to throw up, anyway,” Louis says bitterly.

“It’s so weird that we have a routine for it, now,” Harry comments, setting down his empty mug.

“We’ve become even more domestic.  I didn’t think it was possible - but hey, I didn’t think I had a uterus, either,” Louis jokes, and Harry chuckles.

Louis finishes his tea, and then he reprimands Harry for falling back asleep while he finished up being sick this morning.  _Don’t think I didn’t notice, young man!  I expect full support, and that means being all the way awake to experience the wonders of pregnancy!_

Harry tickles him until he stops yelling.


	3. Sexless and Sleepy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For some reason Louis is even more exhausted than usual.

Louis groaned, “Would you get off me, Harold?  I just want to sleep.”  Harry was straddling him, grinding on his semi.  Harry sighed.

“Sorry,” he said.  Then: “…again.”

“Isn’t your fault I’m exhausted.”

“Why  _are_  you so tired lately?” Harry asks, cuddling Louis instead.

“Dunno, must be getting sick,” Louis answered, and tucked his head under Harry’s chin.  No matter how tall Harry grew, they would just adjust and fit perfectly again.  Harry wrinkled his nose, Louis couldn’t see it but he knew.

“Gonna get me sick and then we’ll  _both_  have to get a booster shot.  I give up so much for you,” Harry said dramatically.  Louis just gave him a playful smack.

“You love me,” Louis stated.

Louis could hear the smile in Harry’s voice, “A little bit, yeah.”

***

Louis woke up to Harry sucking on his neck.  He pushed him off, along with the sheets.

“Gotta pee,” he called as he shut the bathroom door.  Harry just didn’t bother anymore, but Louis still couldn’t seem to break the habit.


	4. Dysphoria and Guilt (Pt. 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis doesn't feel okay, and he just can't hold it in anymore.

Louis shut the door softly, letting out a lungful of air it felt like he’d been holding in for ages.  He slid down, and wrapped his arms around his knees.

Then he allowed himself to cry.

 

He felt horrible for crying, absolutely awful.  But he’d been holding it in for weeks now, and Harry was out, and Millie was asleep, and he couldn’t keep himself together anymore.  

Louis felt off-kilter, everything was wrong and stilted.  He felt like his body was no longer his own.  He had a flabby stomach, breasts, and a lovely new scar to top it all off.  

And Louis hates to hate these things because he  _loves_  his daughter, and without these things she wouldn’t be here.  But he does hate them and he feels so guilty because of it.

Louis had entertained the fantasy that things would go back to normal once Millie was born but things are never going to go back to normal.  They’re just going to keep get more un-normal.  Jesus, having breasts was fucked up enough without actually putting them to  _use_.  And things will just spiral downwards from there.  

Now Louis is hiccuping sobs and trying to be quiet because Millie is a fussy sleeper and  _why couldn’t he have gone somewhere else to have his breakdown?_   He shouldn’t even be crying, there was really nothing to cry about, this was so stupid,  _he was so stupid_ , he was a horrible  _father_ , and a horrible _person_  and -

And then Harry’s  _stupid arms_  were around him, and his  _stupid hands_  were pulling him up and away from the door.  In spite of himself Louis clung to Harry, crying onto his chest and hands gripping his shirt.  Harry must have given up on getting him to walk because suddenly he was being carried and was he really that  _useless_?  Next thing Louis knew he was being tucked in bed like a child and then Harry was climbing in too.

Louis’ tears finally came to a halt somewhere inbetween the hushing, the back rubbing, and the cooing.  God, he felt like a child.  How could he be crying like a child when the reason for crying was so  _stupid_  and he had his own daughter to take care of now?

Harry let him calm down before speaking.

“What’s wrong, Lou?”

And Louis knows that he shouldn’t say anything to him but he can’t keep anything from Harry.

Louis’ mouth opens and closes as he tries to force the words out in the right order. “Everything,” is what he manages in the end.

Harry shakes his head and pulls him still closer, “Gotta be more specific, Lou.”

Louis takes a shuddering breath.  ”I wasn’t ready to have a baby, Harry.”

“Neither of us were, Lou.  But we did and I love her more than anything,” Harry says softly.

“I do, too!  Love her more than life itself, really.  I just…”  Louis doesn’t want to admit these things because it’s partially embarrassing, but mostly because the guilt is eating him up inside and he doesn’t want to admit to it.  Harry nuzzles Louis’ hair.

“You can tell me anything, okay?” Harry reminds him.  And Louis can, he knows that.  Louis sighs.

“Well you know that I really don’t like my,” Louis pauses, “chest.  It’s not - it’s not  _me_.  It just feels so…not right.”  Louis gets frustrated at not being able to articulate his feelings well.  ”And I dunno, having a baby when you didn’t know you could until you get pregnant is really kind of stressful because that’s not _me_  either.  I love her so much, but I don’t feel  _okay_  and I feel terrible about that,” Louis says, rushing the last part out.  Tears seem to be gliding down his cheeks again and his face is burning but Harry is kissing the salty droplets away as they come.  Harry hushes him again.

“It’s okay, Lou.  I get it.  You don’t feel comfortable in your body because of the pregnancy, yeah?” Harry asks.  Louis wants to hit him, because he can perfectly articulate what Louis is trying to spit out.  Louis nods instead.  ”How long have you felt like this?”

“Since way before Millie was born,” Louis mutters.  Harry nods and draws patterns on Louis’ back.

“Okay.  Do you wanna sleep?  This conversation may be better when you aren’t exhausted,” Harry asked, then quickly added, “But we can talk about it now, if you want, Lou.”

Suddenly Louis feels exhausted, and he yawns to accentuate that fact.  ”No, morning is okay.”  There’s a slight shuffling as Louis turns around to let Harry be the big spoon.  Harry pulls him securely to his chest, and Louis whispers, “Harry?”

“Mm?”

“I don’t have my binder on.”

“Want me to get it?” Harry asks, and Louis’ heart swells with appreciation for this boy.

“No.  Just…the rules still apply,” Louis states, his voice small.

“Okay,” Harry replies, and Louis appreciates that he gives such a straightforward reply.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is obviously a few weeks after their daughter is born. Her name is Millie because I read May You Enjoy Your New Life and I can’t imagine their daughter with any other name.
> 
> In this ‘verse Louis identifies as a male, and is experiencing gender dysphoria (discontent with the sex they were assigned at birth and/or the gender roles associated with that sex) from going through the distinctly feminine process of pregnancy. This doesn’t mean that he’s sexist, just that he doesn’t identify as a female or even on that end of the spectrum and that he is more than uncomfortable going through feminine body changes.
> 
> If I have written something incorrect in regards to gender issues, gender dysphoria, and gender identity please let me know and it will be changed, as I am no expert on these issues.


	5. Dysphoria and Guilt (Pt. 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis doesn't feel okay, and he just can't hold it in anymore.

Louis woke up alone - which was not unusual these days.  Harry had taken it upon himself to take care of Millie in the morning.  Harry would feed her a bottle (Louis wasn’t always around, and he didn’t want her drinking formula, so he pumped a little) and cook breakfast for the two of them.  Then Harry would wake his perpetually exhausted boyfriend, and another busy day would begin.

 

But today it felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest.  This morning he gets himself up, and finds Harry in the living room with Millie and a bottle in hand.  He stops in the doorway for a moment, and smiles as he watches.  Harry’s in their huge armchair, and his curls are hanging down in loose ringlets over his forehead.  Louis finally walks in, and Harry looks up and gives a sleepy smile.

“Mind if I join in?” he croaks, grimaces, and says, “Wow I sound great.”

All Harry says is, “Squeeze in.”  (And it’s really not a squeeze because the chair is honestly enormous.)  So Louis does and Harry has one side of him covered in Louis and one side of him covered with Millie.  They’re quiet until Millie finishes her bottle, but when she does Harry hands it to Louis and Louis sets it on the coffee table.  Millie yawns, and Harry burps her.  Louis laughs under his breath because they thought they were domestic  _before_  Millie was born.

“Put her in her chair and I’ll cook breakfast,” Harry says.  Louis nods and stands up and takes her to the kitchen where her bouncy chair has taken up permanent residence on the island.

Louis is fiddling with Millie’s tiny fingers, when Harry cracks an egg in the pan.  He waits until he flips it over to speak.

“What you’re feeling,” Harry started, “it’s called dysphoria.  Gender dysphoria.”

Louis doesn’t know how to reply to that, but Harry is waiting for him to say something so he says, “So it’s got a name.  Cool.”  Harry is spinning the spatula in his hand.

“I would tell you what it means but I’m pretty sure you’d know because you’re feeling it,” Harry said.  And Louis is thinking that  _wow maybe we should have done this last night because this is fucking awkward._

 _  
_Louis doesn’t know what to say and the silence is only broken by the frying egg.  Louis’ lip wobbles out of nowhere and he thought he was done with these stupid hormones already?

“It isn’t your fault, Harry,” Louis whispers.  Louis wonders when he became so fragile.  Harry flips the egg onto a waiting plate and turns the burner off.  He faces him and Louis sees the tears starting to pool in his eyes, too.

“I should’ve realized.  The binder, the rules, the self-consciousness.  I knew the fucking signs and I didn’t realize…” Harry’s leaning on the island blaming himself and Louis can’t take it.

“I didn’t know either, Harry.  I just…I told myself that it would be okay after Millie was born and that helped because there was a set time but it just didn’t get better.”  The two of them wiped their tears and Millie made soft gurgling noises.

“I’m still sorry,” Harry said.

“It still isn’t your fault,” Louis replied.  ”So…since you seem to know about this kind of stuff, how do I get better?”

“Well…in normal cases, body alteration would be an option,” Harry said.

“But that isn’t an option for me right now because of Millie,” Louis finishes.  Millie seems to recognize her name and kicks.  It’s possibly coincidence, but still.  It makes him smile.

“Right.  You can always think about it when she’s older,” Harry tells him.  Louis frowned.

“But…what if we want another, like, later?” Louis asked.  It was nothing short of a miracle that he and Harry could have biological children together.  To just throw that away was like throwing away a precious gift…

“Lou,” Harry said softly.  ”And have you go through that again?  You aren’t okay right now and the end of the pregnancy was  _really_  dangerous.  You could have  _died_.”

“I know.  It was a little high-risk -“

“A _little?_  Your heart nearly stopped!” Harry choked out.  Louis bowed his head.

“But it didn’t.  Besides, Millie was worth it.”  Harry doesn’t say anything.  Louis looks up at him in horror.  Harry shakes his head.

“I…I couldn’t do this without you.  I love her, but…” Harry doesn’t meet his eyes.  ”Couldn’t lose you, Lou,” he says almost inaudibly.

“Harry!” Louis exclaimed.  It sounded out of place after such a hushed admittance.

“I’m just glad everything is okay.  We got lucky.  If you really don’t want a hysterectomy then don’t get one, it’s your body.  Either way, I’ve been seriously considering getting a vasectomy.  I don’t want to put you in that position again.”

“Do you not want another kid?  Because that’s  _all_  you had to say,” Louis snapped at him.

“No!  I mean, I don’t know.  All I know is that a pregnancy for you isn’t something that I could live with risking a second time.  What if - what if you didn’t make it?  Millie would be missing a father and I - I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Louis nodded.  He understood what Harry was saying, but he didn’t know if he agreed.  ”Okay.  I promise you that if we ever decide we want another, then we’ll talk about it and make the decision together.”

Harry just nodded, more than satisfied with that.

“We got a bit sidetracked there,” Louis laughed, and Harry shot him a look that said  _this is really not a good time for jokes_.  Louis cleared his throat, “Any other options?”

“Yeah, a therapist,” Harry answered.

“Anything else?” Louis immediately asked.  Harry sighed as if he knew this was coming.  (He probably did.)

“No.”

“No pills or -“

“It isn’t a disease, Louis.  Besides, you can’t take any,” Harry reminded him.

“Can’t I just talk about it with you?” Louis tried.

“If you really don’t want a therapist, then yes.  Whatever you feel comfortable with, just know that I’m not at all qualified.  All I can do is offer support,” Harry said.

“But you think a therapist would be better?  Would help?”

“Yeah, Lou.  That’s what they’re good at.”

Louis wrinkles his nose.  He doesn’t trust the soft sciences, psychology included.  But he does trust Harry, and Harry seems fairly confident that it would help.  And besides, he could always cancel if he didn’t like it.

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.  We’ll see how it goes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this ‘verse Louis identifies as a male, and is experiencing gender dysphoria (discontent with the sex they were assigned at birth and/or the gender roles associated with that sex) from going through the distinctly feminine process of pregnancy. This doesn’t mean that he’s sexist, just that he doesn’t identify as a female or even on that end of the spectrum and that he is more than uncomfortable going through feminine body changes.
> 
> If I have written something incorrect in regards to gender issues, gender dysphoria, and gender identity please let me know and it will be changed, as I am no expert on these issues.


	6. Progesterone Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis is in his third trimester and his body was not cut out for this, meanwhile Harry goes into hardcore research mode.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look who's back! 
> 
> Yep, hi, hello. Sorry I was gone so long, but I come bearing a nice solid chapter and if that isn't a great peace offering I don't know what is. I still have more ideas for these so do expect more in the future, however far off that may be.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and enjoy!

The thing about being pregnant as a male was, your body really and truly was not made for any of it.  Not for growing an entirely new human being, not for the leaky nipples, and most certainly not for the ballooning stomach and all of the problems that came with it.

Because, well, it was a little overcrowded in Louis' belly to begin with, what with the extra organ and all.  Add a growing organism, and things started getting a bit complicated.  

And now that he was in his third trimester he hurt all the time because he wasn't producing enough progesterone to loosen the ligaments and tendons in his pelvis and it  _hurt_ because his bones weren't made to spread apart to make room for something else.  His doctor kept trying to come up with the perfect hormone cocktail but it was hard to keep the balance that Louis wanted, but that would also allow him to not suffer through his pregnancy.  

So the moral of the story is, Louis worked as long as he could.  He did interviews, photoshoots with the boys, a few low-impact concerts earlier on, and the occasional promo.  But now he just hurt all the time and he couldn't even think about standing up without aching because he would sit and ache, too.  There was no escape because the pain came from the failings of his own body.

Harry was, of course, beside himself.  

He researched for hours every day, trying to come up with other remedies for Louis' constant pain besides the as-of-yet imperfect blend of hormones that he was taking.  The first thing he tried was exercise, which admittedly tired him out enough to let him get a few nice hours of sleep in, but didn't do much else.  Harry's bought him an enormous plastic cup that he always keeps full of water - which the boys jokingly refer to as his 'birthing cup' and it is quite possibly the most embarrassing thing Louis has thus far experienced.  Then they tried swimming, which so far has been the only thing to help, so they go for a swim every day now.  Louis always wistfully looks at the hot tub that's sitting  _right over there_.

Harry has given him what feels like thousands of  massages in hopes of assuaging his discomfort, and sometimes it does.  For a little while, at least.  It works in a pinch.  (Ha, Louis cracks himself up.)  When they have more time and they're both tired (Louis is almost always tired) Harry will run a bath and put a few drops of lavender in it.  And that's Louis' favorite, because it's nice and warm and smells good and he always ends up falling asleep to the rhythm of Harry's hands running over his skin.

The tastiest of all supposed remedies are the smoothies.  They've all got something apparently good for him.  Louis really doesn't care, he just really likes pineapples and strawberries.  (Harry prefers bananas, no surprise there.)  Harry always sneaks in some weird vegetable or root or tuber or whatever you call them.  Louis blames this sneaking of odd food into otherwise perfect smoothies as a biproduct of having dived too far into the internet.  It's not a safe place, you know.

Louis thinks the worst part of it all may be that Harry apologizes  _all the time_.

"It really isn't your fault, Haz," Louis would always say.

"Yeah it kinda is, half the thing that is making you hurt is mine," Harry would always counter.

"It's not like you knew this would happen, though."

"Well things can still be your fault even when it isn't intentional, Lou."

"Fine.  You can be half sorry since it's half your fault," Louis would give in and cross his arms.

"Fine."

"Fine."

And then Louis would laugh and make grabby hands and Harry would curl himself around his boyfriend.

"Love you," Harry would say.

"Love you back."


End file.
